He finally turned to face me, lifting his hands to cradle my jaw. The warmth in his eyes was different from the tiredness—it was soft, steady. “I love that you want to come with us, Matt. Honestly, you’ve made this whole parenting thing easier for me, but it’s not necessary.”
That word—necessary—hit me in a place I didn’t like. I wanted to tell him I wasn’t here because it was necessary. That I wasn’t clocking in and out of his life like it was a job. That I wanted to be there for all of it, the good and the hard, not just for him but for her. But he was proud, and I’d learned that pushing him when he was in that mode didn’t work.
So I swallowed the words and kissed him thoroughly so he’d feel it even after he walked out the door.
“Go on,” I said when we pulled apart. “Check on Ivy before you leave.”
I followed him down the hall, leaning on the doorway as he eased into her room. The early light barely touched her face, just enough to make the curls at her temple shine. She was curled under her mermaid blanket, mouth parted in sleep. Hudson crouched beside her bed, murmuredsomething too low for me to hear, and kissed the top of her head. His hand lingered there a moment, rubbing lightly over her back before he stood.
When he stepped into the hall, I hooked a hand into the front of his shirt and tugged him toward the kitchen again.
“Coffee.” I pressed the thermos into his hand. “And the sandwich. Don’t you dare skip it.”
He laughed but didn’t argue. “You’re gonna spoil me.”
“Food is essential, baby. It can’t be used to spoil someone.”
If only he would let me really spoil him. I would have torn down this house and rebuilt it. Would have bought him a new truck and a car so he could drive Ivy around more comfortably. New furniture, a heater that didn’t take forever to warm up, so half the time he used the cold water anyway.
I have half a mind to do it anyway.
But we were still too fresh for me to trigger such a huge fight.
Hudson leaned in for a full hug, one of those rare ones where his whole weight seemed to settle into me. His voice was quiet in my ear. “You have no idea how lucky I feel having you.”
My throat went tight. “I might have an idea. I’m awesome.”
He laughed, bit my neck. “Yeah, you are.”
We headed out to the driveway together, the air already warm enough to make the cotton of my shirt stick a little to my back. Hudson climbed into his truck and turned the key. Nothing but a dull click. He tried again. Same sound.
“Dammit.” He smacked the steering wheel, jaw tightening. “I can’t afford for this to happen now.”
“Take mine,” I said.
“Matt—”
“Let me grab the keys.” Ignoring his protest, I ran inside and grabbed my keys from the bedroom. When I returned, he was leaning on my truck, frowning.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“Listen, nothing would make me happier than you coming back to bed so I can love on you.” I held out the keys and shrugged. “Your choice.”
He sighed and took them. “Thank you. But how are you and Ivy getting to the ranch?”
“Let me worry about that.” I cupped the back of his head and placed a kiss on his forehead. “If you feel even a little sleepy, pull over and call me. Don’t you dare fall asleep at that wheel, you hear me?”
“I’m not that tired,” he promised. “I wouldn’t risk it. Ivy can’t lose another parent.”
That one hit me square in the chest. “And I can’t lose you again, so be safe out there.”
Something in his face shifted, less guarded, more raw. He leaned in and kissed me like it was the only thing he wanted to do. Hot, lingering, not at all rushed. I tasted the mint of his toothpaste on my tongue, cool with a bit of bite.
“See you later, Hud,” I said when we finally pulled apart.
“Later,” he murmured, and I stood on the porch watching until my truck disappeared down the street. The ache in my chest settled in like it planned to stay a while.
At midday,the barn was its usual chaos, boots grinding grit into the concrete floor, chairs scraping back and forth, the low rumble of laughter and voices layering over the clatter of silverware against tin plates. Someone had brought fresh bread, and the smell of it mixed with sweat,hay dust, and whatever stew Gertie had thrown together for the hands.
